Sunday, March 20, 2011

Channeling my inner 97-year-old

I regularly read the blog of a famous (in the US anyway) TV personality. I enjoyed one of his recent posts so much that I'm reposting a portion of it here. I'm a firm believer in "the older I get the more I realize how little I know" philosophy.

I wonder if anyone could guess who the author is.

I discovered a ninety-seven year old version of myself while talking to a good friend about his romantic relationship. After years of staying with a woman who didn’t trust him and whom he didn’t trust, I finally crossed the friendship line and told him I thought he should end the relationship. For good.

I just said it. Flat out. You need to break up. I knew I crossed the line but it didn’t do any good anyway. He gave me more reasons about why now was not the right time. I suggested that he was missing out on something beautiful by staying in something so limiting and often demoralizing. Nothing was connecting. Finally, I suggested that he imagine that he was ninety-seven years old. Even though you’re not ninety-seven, just imagine that you are. You’ve lived a good long life, you know what’s what. You know what matters and what doesn’t. You know when something is worth fighting for and when you should simply walk away. Now imagine you are advising your own son who is in the same romantic situation. Knowing what you know now that you’re ninety-seven, what would you tell him to do?

The idea of a ninety-seven year old version of me stayed with me. I found that even though I’m far from ninety-seven, I could access that part of myself easily. It’s as if it had always been there, just waiting to be utilized.

I realized, I don’t have to wait until I’m ninety-seven to use this wisdom. I can pop in whenever I need it. I named my new alter ego, “Poppa J.” It sounds better when you give it a bit of a drawl as you say it. “Poppppuh Jaaay. Poppa J knows what to do in almost every situation. He gives me the best advice. Advice that comes from a place where ego does not reside. Advice that has no master. Just a guy who has lived a good long time and knows that sometimes, most times, you should stop fretting and just kiss the pretty girl. He knows when it’s time to quit a job and go for your dream. He reminds you to say, “I love you” over and over and over. He also smiles a wicked grin when he gives you permission to tell the asshole to go F themselves. They probably need to hear it and it just feels good to say it. You don’t always have to be nice and agreeable. Sometimes being selfish and dick-like is exactly what the situation calls for. And you should follow it up with a beer for having the guts to stick up for yourself.

Obviously, the wind is blowing at Quest today and we're not flying. Even so, sometimes I forget how much I love just being here....coffee with Timothy, a run down Redwing Road, lazy afternoons at the pond laying around chatting about nothing. Summer is definitely here!